


Something He Never Accounted For

by sophh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Muggle, M/M, Oblivious Percy Weasley, Perciver - Freeform, Rugby player, accountant, muggle!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26632009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophh/pseuds/sophh
Summary: Percy Weasley is an accountant for a rugby team. He is used to working long hours alone. An unexpected visit by well-known rugby player Oliver Wood threatens to upend his usual routine, however. Muggle!AU.Now complete!
Relationships: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 26
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DobbyRocksSocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DobbyRocksSocks/gifts).



> Written for the incomparable Bex (DobbyRocksSocks), who requested Perciver and "Any reasonable person would have left by now."

"You know, any reasonable person would have left by now."

Percy looked up from the pile of papers on his desk and frowned at the man who had just walked into his office unannounced. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's 6 PM. Shouldn't you be at home instead of working?" the stranger asked.

Percy stared at the man for a moment, trying to place him. He had light brown hair and dark brown eyes, which might have made him forgettable were it not for his tall, muscular build. Percy didn't think he had ever seen so much brawn in one person before—though it wasn't something he paid a whole lot of attention to, normally.

It was just that this stranger had had the gall to barge into his office and interrogate him. Of course Percy was going to pay closer attention than usual.

"I'm sorry," he said in the most pompous voice he could muster, "but I fail to see how that is any of your business."

To his surprise, the man laughed. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

Percy adjusted his glasses and peered at him again. "Er, should I?"

"Oliver Wood," he said, sticking out his hand. Percy shook it reluctantly—he had a thing about germs—and was surprised to find his own hand still intact when Oliver let go. The man had a very tight grip. "I'm on the Puddlemere rugby team."

"I see," Percy said. That explained his burly figure. However, it didn't explain why Oliver was in his office. He shuffled some papers around before asking, "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Wood?"

"Please, call me Oliver," he said, flashing Percy a charming grin before continuing. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, that's because I never threw it," Percy said. He cringed inwardly. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to try and make a joke. It wasn't like he was Fred or George—everyone knew that humor wasn't exactly his strong suit. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm Percy. Percy Weasley."

"Nice to meet you, Percy," Oliver said cheerfully.

"So what brings you to my office this evening?" Percy asked, glancing over at the clock on the wall. The sooner Oliver left, the sooner he could get back to work—and still make it home before it was too dark out, hopefully.

Oliver shoved his hands into the pockets of his scarlet tracksuit bottoms before answering. "I was heading home after practice and I saw the light on in here. I thought to myself, 'Now who would be crazy enough to work this late?' So I decided to come and find out."

He finished his tale with another bright smile, while Percy kept his own expression decidedly neutral.

"How nice," he said dryly. "You think I'm crazy."

"No, I—" Oliver ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, "—I don't think you're crazy, I just don't understand why you're here so late. I mean, does the job really require you to work overtime?"

"As it happens, I like working," Percy huffed. "Anyway, I'm the team's tax accountant. I analyze the salary contracts for the players, coaches, and other employees and determine their compensation. I also help to facilitate bonuses, all while complying with tax regulations, of course."

Oliver blinked at him. "Right," he said slowly. "I'm not sure I understood much of that, but it sounds like you basically make sure everyone gets paid?"

"Er, something like that, yes," Percy replied. He was itching to explain how it was more than that, but even with his limited social skills, he could tell that Oliver wasn't particularly interested. It wasn't as though most people were—even his own family tended to tune him out.

Which was why it puzzled Percy that the other man was still standing there.

"Interesting," Oliver said at last. "You're not too keen on sports, yet you work for a sports team."

"How do you know that I'm not interested—" Percy began.

"Because if you were, you would have recognized me the second I walked in here," Oliver chuckled.

Percy flushed as the implications of the other man's words set in. "Oh. So you're...kind of a big deal?"

"Kind of," Oliver shrugged. "But it's refreshing to talk to someone who doesn't care who I am."

"I wouldn't say I don't care who you are," Percy said, stung by Oliver's phrasing.

"Relax, Perce—can I call you Perce?—I didn't mean that in a bad way." Oliver sounded amused, which irritated Percy—it made him feel like he was the butt of a joke he didn't quite understand.

"My name is Percy," he said flatly. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some paperwork here that needs finishing up."

Oliver held up his hands. "Fine, I can take a hint. I'll just leave you to your work, then, Percy." His emphasis on the end of Percy's name only served to vex Percy even more. Surely this famous rugby player had better things to do with his time than bother the accountant.

"Good," the redhead said, moving a stack of papers and dropping them back onto his desk with a small thump. "You can see yourself out, I'm sure."

"Great," Oliver shot back. He strode out of the office and slammed the door shut.

Percy looked at the closed door for a moment, then sighed. Perhaps he had been a bit rude to the other man, he reflected. Sometimes his temper flared up and got the better of him. He really needed to work on that before it got him into trouble.

Another glance at the clock told Percy that he needed to stop thinking about his conversation with Oliver and finish up for the night. Curiosity got the better of him, however, and he found himself reaching for the morning's paper. Flipping through to the sports section—the part he never even bothered to look at—he found a rather unflattering picture of Oliver and a headline that read, "Wood Sets the Record Straight."

Percy pushed his glasses further up his nose and scanned the article. Apparently Oliver had recently come out as gay and was clarifying some comments that he had made on the subject. The writer was clearly trying to add some depth to the story, but it still read as a gossipy rag rather than serious journalism.

Percy sniffed and tossed the paper aside. Part of him was a bit surprised that Oliver was gay, while the other part of him thought that it was foolish for a writer to devote so much time to uncovering the details of a person's sexuality.

Reminded again of the large workload awaiting him, Percy returned to his pile of papers. He perused them without his usual enthusiasm, however, unable to get the burly rugby player out of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Percy's mum always said that the best way to apologize was with your heart—and food. That was how Percy found himself in the Puddlemere rugby team's locker room two days after kicking Oliver out of his office, holding a paper plate with chocolate chip cookies on it.

Of course, Percy was unaccustomed to the testosterone-heavy atmosphere that was the male locker room, having never been much for sports and the like. He had to repress a shudder at both the putrid smell and the sculpted bodies—all of which were in varying states of undress.

"Oi, what're you doing in here, mate?" a stocky man with jet-black hair asked. He was clad in only a white towel, and one that hung very low on his hips at that.

Percy started and cleared his throat. "Erm, I'm looking for Oliver? Oliver Wood?"

One of the players passed dangerously close behind him and he was forced to step closer to the dark-haired man.

"Well, Ollie's probably in the shower," the man said.

Percy very nearly dropped his plate of cookies at the mental image his mind conjured up in response. "Oh," he said feebly. "I'll just... I'll just wait outside, shall I?"

"Sounds good. I'll tell him you're looking for him." The man clapped him on the shoulder—Percy started again—and walked away.

Percy kept his head down as he maneuvered himself out of the locker room. Once outside, he slumped against the wall with a sigh. This whole apology thing was not going as planned.

A few minutes later, Oliver found him. Percy had to work to keep his mouth from gaping at the sight of the freshly showered man. Oliver's hair was still damp and he had a towel wrapped around his neck as well as one around his hips. His bare chest was broad and muscular, and Percy had a sudden urge to run his finger down it.

"Hey," Oliver said. His expression was guarded, not that Percy blamed him after the way that they had left things. "Marcus said you were looking for me?"

"Yes," Percy said quickly. "I, erm, I wanted to apologise for my rudeness the other night. And I brought you these—they're homemade. I—I hope you enjoy them."

He all but thrust the plate of cookies into Oliver's hands, wishing that he could somehow disappear into a hole in the ground.

Oliver smiled, and Percy found himself unable to look away. "You're forgiven, Percy." He removed the plastic wrap from the plate and picked up a cookie. "Homemade, you say?"

Percy nodded, holding his breath as Oliver took a large bite out of one.

"Oh, wow, these are fantastic," he groaned, spraying crumbs onto the floor. "Did your girlfriend make them?"

"Ah, no, my mum did, actually," Percy admitted, checking his crisp blue shirt for any morsels that might have landed on it. "I would have done so myself but I never really learned to bake—"

"Yeah, because you work insane hours," Oliver said with a chuckle. "Anyway, I suppose you don't have time for a girlfriend either."

"Girlfriend? No." Percy scratched his neck, uncomfortable. "Not really my area."

Oliver's brown eyes were thoughtful as he contemplated Percy. "How do you mean?"

"Nothing," Percy said, feeling his face heat up. "Look, I'd better get back to work. Enjoy the cookies."

He walked away without looking back, ignoring Oliver's, "Thanks!" as he rounded the corner and headed to his office.

Back in his workspace—making sure to close the door this time—he sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples. He still had several hours of work ahead of him, but he wasn't sure that he could focus on anything when the image of Oliver's shirtless body was etched into his mind.

He selected one of his many pens and began to click it on and off. The noise soothed him and the action gave his fingers purpose while he tried to concentrate.

_Click. Click. Click._

Percy wasn't one to be swayed by an attractive face or body, usually, but something about Oliver felt different. It seemed like there was more substance to him than that, and frankly, Percy was intrigued. He challenged Percy in a way that the redhead was not at all used to.

A knock at the door jostled Percy from his daydreams. "Come in!" he called.

He hastily put down his pen and picked up the first piece of paper that he saw. He looked down just long enough to see that it was Oliver's contract before Oliver himself walked in. Percy was quite glad to see that the man was now dressed, even if his tight navy shirt left little to the imagination.

It wasn't as though Percy needed to imagine what lay beneath anyway. He had already seen it, up close and personal.

"Heya, Percy." Oliver made it sound like he was greeting an old friend. "How's it going in here?"

"Fine," Percy lied, not quite meeting the other man's gaze. "Just looking over some contracts."

"Sounds thrilling," Oliver said teasingly. He paused. "Will you be here long?"

"A few more hours," Percy told him. He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"I just wondered if maybe you'd want to get a drink when you were done," Oliver said. He then shrugged, as if asking the team accountant to drinks was an everyday occurrence. "No pressure, though."

Percy privately thought that having drinks with Oliver sounded like a recipe for disaster. He wasn't much a drinker himself, but he imagined that Oliver probably was. In other words, there was a fifty-fifty chance that _he_ would do something embarrassing, and a fifty-fifty chance that _Oliver_ would.

"That sounds...fun, Oliver," Percy said carefully, "but I don't really like the pub scene."

"We could do something else, then," Oliver said, optimism coloring his voice.

Percy bit his lip. Oliver was being quite persistent, and he couldn't understand why. Percy didn't like not understanding things. "I don't know about that. I'm sure that I'll be really tired when I'm done, so…"

"Do you really think you'll be tired, or are you just letting me down easy?" Oliver asked, swinging his arms.

"I'm not sure I understand," Percy finally said. "Why do you want to hang out with me so badly? I'm hardly the most interesting person."

"See, that's just it," Oliver said. " _You_ may not think you're interesting, but _I_ do. And I'd like to get to know you better."

"But _why_?" Percy pressed. "Surely you meet lots of people, being a famous rugby player and all."

"I meet plenty, but they're not you," Oliver said simply.

Percy suddenly felt as though all the air had vanished from the room. "Oh," he managed, adjusting his glasses while he tried to think of something—anything—to say.

"Did I misread the situation?" Oliver's brow was furrowed. "When you said all that stuff about not having a girlfriend, I just thought—maybe I'd ask you out—"

"Oh!" Percy's eyes widened. "Is that what you were doing? Asking me out?"

"Well, yeah." Oliver said this as if it should have been obvious. "But if you're not—if I misunderstood—"

"You didn't misunderstand," Percy interrupted. "I just... don't get asked out a whole lot."

"I'm sure people are too busy being intimidated by you to even try," the other man laughed.

"And you're...not?" Percy said slowly.

Oliver shook his head. "Nope. So what do you say, Percy? Would you want to go out with me tonight?"

Percy hesitated, then nodded.

"Great." Oliver flashed him a winning smile that made his stomach turn over. "Can I come back around 6:30 and see how you're getting on?"

Percy agreed, and Oliver bid him goodbye for the time being. As soon as he was gone, Percy just sat at his desk, feeling stunned and more than a little anxious. On the list of _Most Stupid Things Percy Weasley Has Ever Done_ , that had to make the top three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will cover the date!


	3. Chapter 3

At 6:30 on the dot, Percy heard a knock at his office door. He smiled. Oliver was not only punctual, he was also a man of his word. Those were two traits that the redhead had always found very attractive.

He glanced down at his outfit one final time—he had tucked and untucked his shirt multiple times in his attempts to look as presentable as possible—before opening the door.

"Hello," he said breathlessly, then stopped as his brain tried to process what he was seeing.

Oliver Wood had apparently pulled out _all_ the stops. He was wearing a dark blue suit and striped tie, his hair was slicked back, and he smelled of spicy vanilla aftershave.

Percy felt as though he might melt into the floor right then and there. No one had ever made such an effort for him before. It was definitely something that he could get used to, however.

"Wow, Oliver," he managed at last. "You look...wow."

"Thanks," Oliver said. Percy thought that he sounded almost self-conscious. "Er, how are things going here? Did you finish everything you wanted to?"

"Oh, yes," Percy rushed to say. "I'm ready if—if you are."

Oliver nodded. "I definitely am."

Percy pulled out his keys and locked up his office before turning back to his date. "So, where are we going, exactly?"

"I, erm," Oliver shifted his weight from foot to foot, "I was thinking we could go to Mangia Magico? I know it's not super fancy or anything, but it's only a short walk from here, and—"

"Mangia Magico sounds perfect," Percy interrupted, giving him a reassuring smile. For reasons that he couldn't quite fathom, Oliver seemed to be just as nervous as he was.

He followed the rugby player down a set of stairs, but instead of heading for the front entrance that Percy normally used at the beginning and end of his day, Oliver veered left and went down a narrow hallway.

Percy wouldn't have said that he was _paranoid_ or anything, but he was starting to wonder if this was some sort of set up. Maybe Oliver had only asked him out as an elaborate prank—Percy could see Fred and George setting that up somehow.

"Erm, Oliver? Where are we going?" he finally asked.

"The back way," Oliver said, as if this explained everything.

It explained absolutely nothing to Percy, who decided that he wasn't going any further until he got some answers.

He planted his feet and crossed his arms. "Why?"

Oliver looked back and saw that the redhead was no longer behind him.

"Because," he said patiently, doubling back so that he was standing very close to Percy, "the front entrance is likely to be swarmed with paparazzi."

"Don't be daft," Percy said at once. "I've never seen them there before, and this isn't an unusual time for me to be leaving."

Oliver sighed, and Percy suddenly felt as though he must have missed something very obvious. "Percy," the other man said, his tone gentle, "you don't normally see them because they've usually followed me—or one of the other players—earlier on. Today, some of them probably stuck around because they didn't see me leave when they normally do."

Percy now felt immensely stupid, which was not at all an enjoyable feeling for him.

"Right," he said, feeling his face heat up. "That makes sense."

"Actually, now that I think of it, I should give you these just in case." Oliver handed him a small black box with rounded edges. It looked just like the case Percy put his glasses in before bed, only slightly larger. "They're sunglasses. You should put them on when we leave the building. If anyone tries to snap a photo, they won't get a clear shot of your face."

It was at this point that Percy began to realize the weight of what he was doing. He was going on a date with a rugby player who was famous enough to have his own _paparazzi_.

His family would never let him live this down.

Percy slipped the oversized sunglasses on over his glasses and continued to follow Oliver to a small door at the back of the building.

"After you," Oliver said, gesturing outside.

Percy blushed and hurried through, unaccustomed to such chivalry. "Thanks."

Outside, the air was cool and refreshing after Percy's long day inside. He took a deep breath, savoring it, before moving down the concrete steps. There didn't seem to be any shady photographers lurking around, but he left the sunglasses on just to be sure.

Mangia Magico was a short ways down the street, so the pair reached it in only a few minutes. At first, Percy had struggled to keep up with Oliver's large strides, but the rugby player had noticed and began taking slightly smaller ones. The thoughtful gesture made Percy smile.

At the restaurant, Oliver again held the door open and let Percy enter ahead of him.

 _"Salve!"_ The host greeted them cheerfully, then did a double-take when he saw Oliver. "Ah, Mr. Wood, would you like your usual table?"

"Yes, please," Oliver said politely.

Percy's jaw almost hit the floor. The notion that someone might have a _usual_ _table_ at a restaurant was completely foreign to him. His family never ate out much, not having the means to do so, so this aspect of Oliver's lifestyle would take some getting used to.

That is, if he even made it past the first date.

Percy hadn't dated many people—between the long hours spent at work and his iffy people skills, it just didn't seem practical. He'd had a girlfriend in 6th form and one at university, but neither relationship had lasted long, and he soon realized it was because he didn't feel anything for women. After that, he had gone on a few blind dates with men at Mrs. Weasley's urging, but none of those connections panned out either.

Basically, Percy was trying not to get his hopes up too high.

The host led the two of them to a table in the back corner of the restaurant. There was a tall wooden screen around it to keep prying eyes from seeing them. Percy thought it would also come in handy if he did anything humiliating—which seemed likely given the frazzled state of his nerves.

He went over to one of the wooden chairs and pulled it out for Oliver. The rugby player flashed him a grateful smile and sat. Percy took a seat as well, then folded his hands in his lap as he waited for Oliver to say something.

"So," Oliver said, leaning forward, "shall we order some wine?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that this would be the last chapter, but by the time I got through all of my descriptions, it made more sense to break this last bit up into two chapters. Also, I've noticed I didn't do the best job of Brit-picking previous chapters so I'm planning to go back and fix those errors.


	4. Chapter 4

Percy leaned back in his chair, face flushed. The wine—some fancy aged sort that Oliver apparently favored—was already working its way through his bloodstream, and he was feeling quite glad that they hadn't gone to a bar for their date. If a few glasses of wine could make him this tipsy, he shuddered to think what several _beers_ might have done. 

The pair had discussed their jobs and aspirations while they waited for their food to arrive, and then Percy had taken to questioning Oliver about the ins and outs of fame, which was something that he was immensely curious about. 

"So, Percy," Oliver said, cutting into his Florentine steak with more precision than Percy might have expected, "tell me—how many siblings do you have?"

"Six," Percy promptly replied, enjoying the shocked look on his date's face. "Two older brothers, three younger brothers— _including_ a set of twins, and one younger sister."

"Twins, even?" Oliver laughed. "Wow." 

"What about you, Oliver?" Percy asked. " Do you have any siblings?" 

"I'm an only child, I'm afraid," Oliver said. He shook his head. "God, the holidays at your house must be something else!"

Percy chuckled. "Oh, they most certainly are." 

"Think I might get an invite?" Oliver teased. 

Percy stared down at his plate of chicken cacciatore as his cheeks reddened. The implications of the other man's words were more than a little overwhelming considering they hadn't even gotten through their first date yet. Still, the idea of inviting him over for the holidays didn't seem completely ridiculous. Percy was having a nice time, and as far as he could tell, Oliver was too. 

To cover his embarrassment, Percy set about cutting up his chicken. He was very particular about it, employing short, sharp movements to slice the meat into neat little pieces. He looked up to find Oliver watching him intently, and froze. "What is it? Have I got something on my face?" 

"No, no," Oliver said quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare." 

Percy was normally against people staring at him, as he found it quite rude, but he was willing to make an exception for the burly rugby player. "It's alright," he said, taking a bite of his food. He chewed carefully, swallowed, then dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "I suppose I can be a bit...neurotic when it comes to cutting up my food." 

Oliver raised an eyebrow. 

"Fine, maybe about other things too," Percy admitted, gripping his knife and fork so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He knew that he was hardly making a winning impression, but Oliver didn't seem repulsed. As a matter of fact, he seemed more keen on Percy than ever, as evidenced by his next words:

"There's something so refreshing about you, Percy," he said earnestly, reaching over to put a hand on Percy's wrist. "I don't know if it's your intelligence or your honesty, or maybe just the fact that you don't care about my fame, but I...I really like you." 

Percy swallowed. His skin felt red-hot where Oliver was touching him, and he found himself lost in the other man's warm brown eyes. "I—I really like you too, Oliver."

Oliver's gaze flicked over to the wooden partition that separated them from the rest of the restaurant, then back to Percy. "No one can see us," he murmured, leaning forward slightly. 

Percy kept his back firmly against his chair. "Yes, I know, it's for your privacy—"

"Percy," Oliver chuckled, still hovering over the middle of the table. "I think you're missing the point." 

Percy's brow furrowed. He didn't like missing the point. "What's the point, then?" he reluctantly asked. 

"Come closer and I'll show you," Oliver whispered. Percy's arms, clad though they were in his long-sleeved blue shirt, broke out in goosebumps. 

"O—okay," he managed, shifting so that his face was closer to Oliver's. 

"That's better," Oliver said softly. Slowly, he began to eliminate the distance between them, and Percy had just enough time to figure out what was happening before the other man kissed him. 

Percy hadn't kissed many men before—the blind dates his mother had set up usually didn't go well enough for anyone to want to do any sort of intimate activity, let alone kissing—but kissing Oliver Wood was a different beast entirely. He was certain of that much, at least, if not much else. His brain seemed to have shut down, and all he could focus on was not passing out from sheer bliss. Oliver's lips were surprisingly soft, and though he applied very little pressure, Percy could have sworn his own lips tingled when they broke apart. 

"Wow," he croaked. "That was…"

"Amazing?" Oliver supplied, sounding rather breathless. 

Percy nodded. He didn't trust himself to say anything more just then. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Oliver expected him to, as he had resumed eating his steak like nothing had happened. Percy did notice a faint blush on the rugby player's cheeks, however, which suggested that Oliver was merely attempting to act casual. He followed suit, taking careful bites of his chicken cacciatore interspersed with sips of wine. 

"Did you want to go anywhere after this?" Oliver asked suddenly. 

Percy nearly choked on the piece of chicken he was eating. He wondered if the other man was asking if he wanted to go home with him. The notion was both thrilling and terrifying to the redhead, who decided it was best to just find out what Oliver meant instead of jumping to conclusions.

"What do you mean?" he asked, using his napkin to dab at his mouth once more. 

"I mean if you wanted to go somewhere, like for a walk around the park or something…" Oliver's voice drifted off, his expression uncertain. "Never mind. I'm sure you'd like to get home."

"Oh," Percy said, feeling simultaneously relieved and stupid to know that he had been wrong. "No, a walk sounds lovely. Won't there be paparazzi to worry about, though?"

Oliver grimaced as he swallowed another piece of steak. "Probably, yeah. I just don't want the night to end." 

"I don't either," Percy said quietly, surprised at how easily the words tumbled out. 

"Maybe we could…" Oliver bit his lip, and Percy was immediately glad that he was sitting down, "I know this is kind of forward, but would you want to go back to my place and have a nightcap?" Percy's face must have given away his skepticism, for he added, "Just the drink, nothing more, I promise. I would never—I don't want you to feel pressured into anything." 

"Right, sure," Percy said at last. He trusted Oliver not to try and push his luck once they were alone. 

Oliver flagged down their waitress and asked for the check, which was brought out so swiftly that Percy didn't even have a chance to offer to pay. "I've got it, Perce," Oliver said, holding up a hand. 

"It's Percy," Percy mumbled, but his reproach lacked any real heat. The nickname was growing on him, slowly but surely. That was yet another thing that his family would never let him live down. After years of asking—and sometimes begging—them not to call him anything but Percy, here he was allowing Oliver to do just that. "Thanks," he added after a moment. 

Oliver smiled at him, causing his heart rate to spike. "It was my pleasure." 

Percy passed Oliver the sunglasses that he had borrowed earlier. "Do you think you'll need these when we leave?" 

"Oh, good idea," Oliver said, slipping them on and standing. Percy hurried ahead to get the door—he figured it was the least that he could do after Oliver paid for his meal and drinks. 

Life was funny, he mused as he held the door open for his date. If someone had asked him about the state of his love life several days ago, he would have said that it was dead, unlikely to ever be revived. Now, it seemed as though he might be on his way to some sort of relationship—with a famous rugby player, no less. That was _definitely_ something he had never accounted for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, I wrote a one-shot based in the same universe (inspired by read_my_books' comment!) called [A Christmas He Never Accounted For](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209212).


End file.
